He Is Here
by Casy Dee
Summary: Abby needs Connor now after her brother's sudden death, more than she ever has...but will she let him help her? Chapter 3 up! Story complete!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay so this is the same story as 'He Would Be There' but from Abby's brain POV. Ideally, you could read either story and feel like you had a whole story, but from a different perspective. Tough to write, I tell ya. And thanks to the ever brilliant authoress iEvenstarEstel for the title help...**

**Premise? What if Jack met with an untimely end? **

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He Is Here

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**Chapter 1**

Jack had done something completely unselfish, for once in his life. It seemed as if Rex was never at his mate's house at all…her prat of a brother had bet _and lost_ him in a game of cards. And Connor had got him back, all without ever breathing a word of it to her. Incredibly enough, Jack had come clean and gave Connor the credit for getting him back. She had to wonder why. Connor certainly didn't do it for Jack, but that left her but one option… he had done it for her. _Really_ done it for her, because he'd not expected to get anything out of it. He'd not even said anything about it when she accused him of being happy if Jack was dead.

She had hurt him with that little jab, and badly. It had taken him completely by surprise and had registered on his face like she'd punched him in the gut. He had literally flinched. She felt terrible, striking at him because he was an easy target. She had been furious that Connor, who she depended on to stand by her no matter what, had said they should leave... so she turned on him. Connor was possibly the sweetest man she had ever known, even if he was a bit clueless sometimes. She had done wrong by him. The truth of it was that no one had ever done anything so completely selfless and nice for her before. Not ever. She needed to apologize.

She found Connor at the foot of the staircase, fiddling with the anomaly detector. She walked down the stairs and leaned over the rail, taking in the picture he made. His eyebrows were drawn in concentration, a cute little wrinkle appearing between them. She looked at him…_really looked_ at him. He was actually very handsome, although at the moment he was dirty, bloody, and ragged… he had to be exhausted. She certainly was. He had drawn fire away from her, had helped her pull up Jack from the shaft he had fallen down, and she had rewarded him how?

She told him she knew what he had done for her; he just said that he didn't want her to be hurt. That he knew how much she loved Jack. He seemed afraid she would be angry with her. He had even said he was sorry. She couldn't believe he was apologizing. She wanted to know why. Did he actually do it all for her?

He began trying to tell her something…stumbling and stuttering and getting right flustered. In that moment, all she wanted to do was kiss him… so told him to shut up, and she did.

She got more than she intended. The first soft brush of his lips wasn't enough, not by far. She dug her fingers into his thick unruly hair and pulled him in closer. He reached up and grasped her hand in his, gently…just as soft as his lips moving on hers. She didn't think it would be like this, her heart pounding and electricity sizzling between them... She never thought…

Abby broke away, leaving him there, his eyes still closed, lips parted. She had to think! What was she _doing?_ What had she _done?_ Now things would get weird and uncomfortable between them… and he was her mate…probably her best friend, and she had likely just ruined it. She didn't want to lose him, and if she got entangled with him like that…well… she didn't have the best record with her relationships.

She gathered the rest of her gear, planning to head back to the ARC so she could log her report and go home. Go home and think. She hoped Jack would be quick about moving out his things. As much as she loved her brother, he lived like an absolute pig. Jack also wasn't much for conversation; she missed having Connor around. Too bad she had screwed that up, she grumbled to herself.

Sirens screamed in the distance, but they were coming closer. As first, she thought nothing of it. They were near a busy road. But when the noise got even louder and nearer she began to panic. Had someone else been injured? What if it was Connor? The team had seen too much death, and sirens set off an automatic internal recoil within them all. Sirens were a bad thing, and she had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. She headed towards the noise numbly, afraid of what she would find.

Connor sprinted to her, intercepting her and grabbing her by her shoulders.

"Don't look Abby, please." He begged.

She looked up at him blankly. "Who?"

He swallowed hard, his pale pace set in grim lines.

"Jack." He answered, his voice breaking.

She felt the blood drain from her face, leaving her cold and shaking. She couldn't believe it. She had just hugged him… just spoken with him. There had to be some sort of mistake. Grief welled up in her, but she refused to give into it until she saw for herself. She had to see. She moved past him, but he held her firm. Not fast enough. She saw the body on the ground. Jack's foot laid uncovered, Jack's leg… and blood. So much blood, pooling out...staining the ground.

"No." Abby said, her voice weak and frail.

"Sorry Abby, god I'm so sorry." Connor replied, his voice laced with sympathy.

"But how?" She whispered.

She didn't understand it. How could he be gone? He was her baby brother… he was young. How could he be dead?

"Hit by a car…I don't know how. Just…you don't need to see, okay?" He answered.

Jack was all she had left. It wasn't fair. Connor pulled her to him, enfolding her in his arms. She let herself cling to him, sink into the comfort he provided. She sobbed once, the cry torn from her throat. Then she screamed, a heart wrenching bone deep scream of agony. She tried to contain it, but it was too much. The pain ripped through her, tearing at all the flimsy barricades of strength she tried to show the world.

For a moment, she gave in…let all the rage out. She pounded at Connor's chest, angry…she was so _angry_. He let her hit him. He didn't even pull away; of course he wouldn't. He would be what she needed, and she needed an outlet. It was wrong to use him…but she did it. She screamed and railed as he tried to hold her close. She didn't want to be held… she wanted to beat her fists in rage until the pain burning her alive subsided.

Connor's eyes were filled with sympathy and fear for her. She didn't want to see it, didn't want to acknowledge it... because then it would be real. She had to take that look off of his face…make him stop. Her fist connected with his jaw, rocking his head back. Her other fist flew unchecked and connected with his mouth. Bright red blood on his lip… blood like on the road under her brother. Like her dead brother… and Connor hadn't let her go. He was still here with her. Even with a trickle of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, he hadn't let go of her to even wipe it away. He was trying to pull her to his chest, and he was safe and warm and she wanted to be safe and warm… just for a moment.

For long moments he cradled her to his chest as she sobbed. He murmured words of love and comfort to her, and Abby understood the intent if not the words themselves. He pressed kisses to her hair and held her if she was much more than his friend and she let him. She let him because she wanted someone… (_Connor, you want Connor!_, her mind insisted) who loved her to be there for her just once. She wanted someone to cling to as she cried; else the grief would wash her completely away.

Her sobs died away, leaving numb emptiness.

Connor steered her towards Danny, his arm around her shoulder. She let herself be led; it was easier just to follow and not think. Maybe if she could just _not think_.

"Danny, can someone take us home? I need to get her home." Connor asked.

She barely registered the ride home, or entering her flat, or Connor sitting her down on the couch. It seemed like a dream… surreal and hazy. He was speaking to her… but his words were meaningless noise. She didn't want to understand them. She didn't want to think. She wanted it to go back to how it was this morning when Jack was alive and annoying her still.

Connor sat next to her and put his arm around her shoulders; Abby leaned into his warmth subconsciously. She faintly registered that he was pulling her closer to him, right up next to his body; he wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek on top of her head. He smelled like smoke and sweat… and underneath it all, of Connor. She closed her eyes and took in the scent of him; it brought memories of comfort and friendship and laughter. She allowed it. She _needed _it. Needed _him._

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It was dark when she woke, cradled in Connor's embrace. He was asleep, so she moved carefully to avoid waking him. She stood over him for a moment, taking in the cuts, scrapes, dirt and blood that clung to him… the dark shadows beneath his eyes, the hollows of his cheeks. He hadn't looked well for a while, not since she kicked him out. She didn't think he'd been sleeping much.

The thought brought back memories of Jack. She put it away, for now. She would shower and change clothes and then she would bully Connor into doing the same. Afterwards… she didn't want to think about after. One thing at a time. Shower.

Abby stripped off her clothes and dropped them directly in the trash bin. She turned on the taps and stepped inside, letting the sting of the water wash away all the smoke and grime and filth that clung to her. She tried not to think, going through the motions automatically. It wasn't until she reached for the conditioner that it hit her like a brick.

Jack's voice echoed in her head '_couldn't find the conditioner.'_

She would never see him again. The last of her family gone. She was all alone. It was her fault… if he wouldn't have followed her to work then he would still be alive. If she had told him to wait for her… A thousand little things she could have done differently circled round her head. One little decision, one little choice had the chance to save him.

It had always been just her and Jack against the world, and now she was alone.

She slid down the wall of the shower as overwhelming anguish coursed through her, staggered her. She curled into a ball in the tub, letting the water pour over her as she sobbed uncontrollably. Alone, she was alone and he was dead and she would never see him again. The water grew cold and she welcomed it; it would never be as cold as what she felt inside.

From somewhere far away she heard a voice and a knock at the door. She didn't want to answer, didn't want to think; she wanted to stay numb. Numb like the freezing water on her skin, numb like her mind, numb like her heart.

The voice continued, louder and scared this time…the noise continued. She wanted to be left alone. She was alone. Sobs wracked her body again. She couldn't seem to stop crying. Her chest ached and her eyes burned and she couldn't breathe! She couldn't breathe…

A sickening crack of breaking wood and the door opened. The curtain opened, too bright. Too much light; she didn't belong in the light. She clenched her eyes shut against the outside world… she didn't belong there. She belonged to this cold dark place where she was alone. She belonged to pain, to rage, to suffering and guilt.

Warmth surrounded her, and movement and sound. Someone was drying her hair, drying her body gently. She opened her eyes to see who had torn her from the dark. _He_ is here…Connor. His dark eyes full of fear, full of love. She had seen that look in his eyes before, as she dangled off of a cliff. He had saved her then. He had refused to let her go...even though it meant he would die with her.

She choked on another sob rising in her chest. Connor was here for her, again he refused to let her go…and again she was afraid he would go down with her. She didn't deserve him, she didn't deserve his love or sympathy, but she _wanted_ it. _Needed_ it. She buried her face in his neck, her arms coming around him. He held her to him, whispering soothing words, holding her against his warmth… thawing her. And the thaw brought more pain.

Jack would never be warm again. He would never be held. Jack would never do anything ever again. Jack would be put in the cold ground, along with everyone else that had ever loved her. She mustn't think. She let go of Connor and wrapped her arms around her knees and pressed her forehead down to them. She retreated again, guilt weighing heavily on her for trying to escape its clutches. It was her penance, and she would take it. She welcomed it. She was supposed to protect him; she had always protected him. It was her duty, she was all he had.

Connor was pulling at her… he wanted something. She ignored it; it wasn't important. Nothing could be important, not when her baby brother was dead.

He tucked the towels in closer around her and then lifted her in his arms. She closed her eyes and went deep into herself. He was here…Connor was here. Connor wouldn't hurt her, Connor was safe. He would watch over her until she was ready to deal with the world again.

He laid her down on her bed, still wrapped up in damp towels. She hardly registered it as he dressed her; she was counting the plaster dots on the ceiling. As she lost count she began again, then again, and then again. She built the wall in her mind carefully, stone by stone. She would hide the pain away until it was older, made softer with time. She just had to get past this.

The bed shifted and dented in as Connor lay down next to her on her bed. She had a small flare of surprise at his forward action, shaking her temporarily out of her fugue. He shivered next to her. He hadn't been brave enough to get close enough to take advantage of her body heat or to get underneath the covers with her. She should send him away. She should. Abby moved the blanket down, and then pulled him closer. He slid under the blankets gratefully. His bare skin pressed against her arm as he moved in closer to her. She should send him away, she thought again hazily. She closed her eyes and moved so she could lay her head on his chest.

She was so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of pushing him away when all she wanted in this moment was for him to hold her. He wanted to be there for her. Just this once, she would let him.

TBC

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A/N: Sooo? This got fairly dark, eh? Abby is in a bad place. Please do review? I am very anxious for feedback on this one. Please? Feed my muse?


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Slight warning here folks… mentions of abuse.**

**I hope you like this… and thanks to you kind people that have reviewed. This story is **_**work**_** and I so appreciate your words.**

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Chapter 2

She woke, and for a moment blissful confusion replaced pain. Her limbs were tangled with Connor's; he had thrown his arm around her waist and pulled her close to his chest. She thought it was a dream at first and smiled at the feel of his arms around her, pressed herself more tightly to him. In her dreams it was safe to enjoy it, to accept it from him. It was the smell of smoke that still clung to him that finally clued her in.

As the memories came back to her she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to sink back into dreaming, back into oblivion. It was no use; some knowledge wouldn't be denied. Her brother was gone; his life had been extinguished before he even had a chance to live it. And it had been her fault… she was supposed to protect him. She should have checked her bag before she left that morning, and he would have never been able to follow her. She should have just taken him home straight away instead of going to find Connor.

Connor… he is here right beside her. He had _seen_.

Nausea twisted her stomach; she thought she might be sick. She raced to the toilet and retched, but there was nothing in her stomach to give. She dry heaved, acid burning her esophagus as her stomach tried to empty. She laid her head on the rim and cried, shaky and sweating. She kept seeing the black sheet of plastic they had draped over Jack's body. The blood… his trainer splattered with it. Why hadn't they covered him all the way? It seemed important to her, like they hadn't thought Jack worthy of covering fully.

She stood shakily. Water. She wanted some water to wash out her mouth. She made her way to the kitchen and sat. Again Connor came to her; she blinked. Abby wasn't sure how much time had passed. He silently moved to put the kettle on. Tea… she had come in for water. She thought about asking for some water, thought about getting up and getting it.

He set the cup of tea in front of her before taking the seat next to her at the table. Abby blinked slowly. She had lost track of time again. He was watching her, although he tried not to show it. He was always watching her. She took a sip of the tea, didn't taste it.

"I could make you summit to eat. You should eat." He said hesitantly.

Abby heard the words from a distance. She shook her head mutely. The thought of food made her stomach knot and twist again. She wished he would stop speaking. She liked not feeling, not thinking, not seeing the blood. Blood on her hands… it was on her hands. _He_ kept trying to make her feel it again.

"Abby? Please?" He tried again.

She focused on him, fixing him in her sights. He sighed in relief as she met his gaze… it enraged her. How dare he look at her like that! As if she was his world, and it was ending… and so frightened… and the love in those depths. Rage consumed her. How dare he love her! How dare he hold her to him when she wanted to let go.

Her hand clenched around the cup in her hand. How could he love this fucked up mess that she was? And he was still _looking_ at her with his heart in his eyes. She threw the cup at his head. He ducked it, barely. She stormed off to her room, slammed the door behind her and clicked the lock. She wasn't safe to be around. It wasn't safe for Connor… maybe he would just leave. He should leave her alone. The knot of grief in her chest came welling up again; she tried to fight it. The sobs escaped her, choking her, leaving her tasting bile. She let them come.

"Abby? Abby, please let me in. Please?" He begged.

She heard his voice at the edge of her consciousness. She wanted him to go.

"Abby…I'm here…okay? Just…I just want you to know." He called out to her.

_Please just go,_ she thought.

Abby didn't know how long she had lain there letting the tears run unchecked down her cheeks. Her eyes felt gritty and puffy, and she didn't think she had any more left inside her. Hollow and empty, a shell. The pain was still there, but she had pushed it down, hidden it away. She got up to wash her face and use the toilet. Her body must not realize it was dead.

When she made her way back to the bedroom, _he_ was there blocking her path with his body.

"I want to help, Abby. Don't shut me out." He pleaded.

She walked through him and lay on the bed. Did he not know she was already dead? He sat down next to her and held her hand. Detached and curious at what he meant to do, she let him. His hand was warm in her cold one; she felt the slight rasp of calluses at the tips of his fingers… electrician calluses. In his case, computer wizard extraordinaire calluses. His palms were soft… oddly naked without his ubiquitous gloves. Gentle hands… soft.

She concentrated on the feel of his hand, the shadows on the ceiling, the scratching and chirping of the animals in the flat. Details, she thought about the details. Not how Jack's clear blue eyes would never sparkle at her again as he tried to get inside her guard when they sparred. She'd told him Rex was worth more than him. Why did she tell him that? Her eyes flicked to Connor's hand again, he had a cut on the base of his thumb, and grime was imbedded in the wrinkles of his skin. He still hadn't showered.

"Abby…you need to eat. Can you eat for me?" Connor gently asked.

Abby nodded slightly and sat up. He sounded so worried, she noted. Abby wondered why he was worried… she wondered if she was dreaming again. The edges were fuzzy and she wasn't sure how she got to the kitchen… did she walk there? Everything seemed as if it was happening to someone else. She watched herself sit and look up at him. Did he say something? He placed a plate of steaming food in front of her, and sat opposite.

He was watching her expectantly. Did he want her to eat? Would he stop staring at her like she was made of glass if she ate? She took exactly four bites before she pushed the food away. It tasted of ashes and sat in her belly like rocks. She couldn't. Did he not understand? She was already dead.

"Abby. Another few bites?" He cajoled.

She shook her head in the negative. No. No more. She had done as he asked, now he was supposed to leave her be. That's how it worked. If you did what you were told, if you were good, then it didn't have to hurt.

"Please? I know you are hurting. Believe me, I know. But don't give up okay?" He pleaded.

Warmth stole through her, the flush of anger. It begun to crack through... hairline crevices in the numb shell she had worked so hard to construct.

"Abby? I know it hurts. I'm sorry, I am…but you have got to go on…as hard as it is. Jack wouldn't want this." He continued.

Warmth transformed into a flash fire of fury. How _dare_ he! Her brother was dead!

"You know? You can't. You CAN'T!" Abby screamed.

Connor flinched. "Abby…I'm just trying to…"

The numb shell fell away, leaving her raw. _His_ fault. If he just let her be, she would be with Jack now. She would make him pay for it. She would.

She rose and moved towards him, menace in her step; he stood and begun to back away. It was too late to back away from her now. He should have thought of that before. Too late. His back hit the counter and he froze, his eyes wide… she saw fear there. Whether for her or for himself she wasn't sure. Didn't matter. She continued to advance on him. He raised his hands defensively, but it did nothing to deflect the vicious blows from her small fists or her sharp tongue.

"He was ALL I HAD! He was my only family and he's gone! He's dead! And you think you can make everything like it was? You think you can help me? You can't even help yourself you pathetic…excuse for a man!" She railed.

She had searched for words to sting him, to hurt him the most. He had named himself pathetic to her before, and she had always angrily insisted he was not. Deliberate and cruel, she searched for what she could say to get him away from her. She _wanted _to hurt him (god, she didn't want to hurt him)… and he had to get away from her. Why wouldn't he leave her? He wasn't safe with her…he wasn't safe.

"I don't want you here! Get out!" She yelled.

Connor set his jaw stubbornly. She knew that look. He was immovable once dedicated to a course of action.

"No. I'm not leaving you alone until I'm sure you are okay." He argued.

White hot rage… a haze of red dropped over her vision. She had swung before she realized it, too late to stop it. Her fist connected with his jaw; he stumbled and fell.

She had to let it out before it consumed her… and it was _his fault. _Why had he not let her be? Let her go? Why was he forcing her to live for him when it _hurt? _Desolation and misery filled her, bubbled up inside of her and spilled out through her fists and in her screams. Memories of shielding Jack from hard raining blows from heavy fists… shielding his body with hers mixed up with the images of him lying still and empty. She wanted to strike back then so badly but she had been small and scared…

"Never be okay." Again and again, she repeated it.

She had to take it or they would hurt Jack. Had to take the blows raining down on her… had to take it to save him. In her mind she was striking her foster father back… she was bad and Jack would pay for it.

Jack was dead.

Clarity.

"Never ever be okay." She whispered.

She was broken. Ruined.

She looked down in shock at the slight form of Connor curled up on the floor, his arms wound around his head protectively. _Oh god, Connor._ _What have I done? _She wondered, horrified. She was the same as them… what she swore to never become. She slid away a few feet and leaned her head to her knees and sobbed. She never wanted to become this.

Connor crept up next to her. He laid a cautious hand on her back, rubbed small circles across it. Guilt consumed her. She didn't know how he could bear to touch her… she hated herself completely. She had _used Connor_ as an outlet for her rage. Connor, of all people, didn't deserve it. He had always accepted her completely, loved her even… despite her mood swings and prickly words. He never made her feel weird, or like a freak. He loved her and she knew it, even though she had cowed him too much to allow him to say it to her. She didn't blame him for it; it wasn't safe to love her. At least now he would understand why she had to keep him away.

"It will get better. I promise." He said softly.

How could he make her those promises? Connor couldn't possibly understand it. How could he? How could he understand that she was broken?

"You don't know what it's like." She whispered

"How do you know? I understand better than you might think." He replied evenly.

She lifted her head to look at him. He was right. She didn't know much about his past, or his family. Only that he didn't get birthday cards either, or telephone calls from family… he had a mother though. He had mentioned her once or twice. She gave a deep sigh. She hoped he could forgive her. She looked him over and winced inwardly. He was filthy, although he had changed clothes and wiped off his face somewhat. He looked exhausted, with bloodshot puffy eyes over hollowed cheeks and more stubble on his face than he usually allowed to accumulate.

"Conn…you look awful." She said after a few moments.

He shrugged, lifted the corner of his mouth in a half smile.

"I'm sorry. I know you are trying to help." She apologized.

Her fingertips feathered over his bloodied lip, and then the bruise on his cheek. She had even torn his shirt; she didn't remember doing it. His eyes stared into hers, concerned and blameless. She didn't deserve this kind of devotion.

She took a deep shuddering breath and closed her eyes. She had to get through it. He was right. People needed her, depended on her; she wouldn't lie down and die. She stood up, and offered him a hand up as well.

"Conn…you need to shower, eat something. I'm okay, honest." She assured him.

"I'll eat if you do." He bargained.

She shook her head. "I'm not hungry."

"Me neither." He stated, his eyebrows rose challengingly.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. Connor could be just as stubborn as she, when he wanted to. If she wanted him to eat, she would have to as well. He polished off the pizza, and she reluctantly ate most of her plate of vindaloo. Connor watched her, his dark eyes flicking to her face every few minutes. He must have seen what he needed to, because he excused himself after clearing away the dishes and went to shower.

At a loss for what to do with herself, she wandered up to Connor's room, where Jack had been staying. She swallowed hard before breaking over the last step. She wasn't sure she was ready for this. She didn't know if she could do it alone. Connor would help her, if she asked… but she didn't want to encourage any more closeness between them. It wouldn't be right. She would just hurt him again.

She looked around helplessly at the clothes and magazines and assorted trash strewn around the loft. Abby wasn't entirely sure what was Connor's. He hadn't been very neat, although at least he was clean even if he was haphazard about his living conditions. She wandered across the room, stubbed her toe on a box halfway pushed under the bed. She pulled it out and looked inside. This wasn't anything of hers… was it Jack's?

Papers, letters, some photographs and a worn and battered teddy bear lay inside. Curious, she picked up a piece of paperwork she recognized. She had two of them in her possession… death certificates. Her hand stilled momentarily as she realized that there were three of them. Three death certificates, worn from folding and unfolding; Brigid Temple, age three, Desmond Temple, age fifteen, Benjamin Darcy Temple, age thirty-eight. A photograph fluttered out, caught in between the pages. Her eyes were drawn to it… a family portrait. She would recognize those big brown eyes anywhere; these things were Connor's.

She hurried to put his things back in the box, made guilty and uneasy at the intrusion. The bear must belong to Brigid. Three years old. She bit her lip. He _did _understand. She felt like such an idiot. She had said all those things to him, and he had all this inside of him and he never breathed a word. Why had he not just told her? What had happened to his mother? Her eyes were drawn back to the box; she reached in for the letters. She studied the envelopes, specifically the return address of St. Luke's Hospital. Oh. _Oh._ Poor Connor.

Noise at the stairwell caught her attention. Connor. She hadn't even heard him come in. She looked to the bear in her hands and froze. He would think she was digging into his things… things he had hidden. Well, she _was,_ but she had not intended to. She dragged her gaze upwards, afraid of what she would see in his face.

His dark eyes flashed in anger, lips compressed, nostrils flared out… his jaw ticked as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. He was furious… and it was all for her.

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TBC

**A/N: Dark thoughts, dark deeds… So. Is it different from Abby's side of things? Please let me know what you think.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you for reviewing! I love them, and without them I certainly wouldn't be spending as much time writing as I do.**

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Chapt

**er 3**

She had Brigid's bear in her hands, the death certificates on the bed next to her, the envelopes spread across the bed. She knew what it would look like if she had walked in and seen it, and the sad part of it was that he wasn't entirely wrong about it either, despite her intentions. And he was _angry_… she had never even seen him like this. Not once. Connor just didn't lose his temper except for the most extreme of circumstances. She supposed that this was one of them.

"What are you doing in my things?" Connor asked, his voice shaking with barely suppressed rage.

Abby felt the blood drain from her face. How could she ever explain this? She had to try… he would listen to her. He always listened to her. Once he understood that she'd not meant to pry, he wouldn't be angry anymore.

"I was just…" She began.

"Just what? Invading my privacy? You had no right!" He railed.

"And put that down!" He shouted, gesturing at Brigid's bear.

He was shouting at her, he'd not even listened. She set the bear down inside the box and stood, her own anger kindling and catching fire. She was hurt… and for Abby, hurt equaled angry. Anger protected her, shielded her. He hadn't even let her explain it. Did he not know her better than that? Did he honestly think that she would go snooping into his things _now_ after three years of living together? She had _not once_ gone into his things, even when his things were mixed into hers. It infuriated her that he wouldn't even give her a chance to explain, even as bad as it looked. She thought he respected her more than that; she thought he knew her better.

"First off…this is _my_ flat. I didn't know that box was yours until I had opened it." She seethed.

"And then I see you closed it right up?" He bit back, sarcasm dripping from his words.

How _dare _he? She had just told him she had not realized it was his things… it was an accident. Well… fuck _him._ She could fight dirty if that was what he wanted.

"Once again…_my flat._" She sniped.

"You think that little of me, eh? That it doesn't matter if you just…go through things that are private? You had no right to do it, and you know it!" He argued, his eyes narrowed and jaw set.

"I had no right?" She asked, outraged.

She didn't know it was _his_, damn it. It was in _her_ house, how was she supposed to know? It wasn't as if the box had 'Connor Temple's Secret Stuff' inked across it. He shouldn't have left it here if he was so concerned, and she'd not wanted him here to begin with!

"No." He snapped.

"I had as much right as you did following me here! I didn't want you here! I didn't ask you to come! You don't live here anymore." She countered, her voice rising in anger.

He flinched at her last statement; she smiled tightly as her jab scored a deep hit on him. She had not rifled through his things on purpose, but perhaps it was a good thing. Now she could get him to leave. She had to get him to leave before she did something worse to him than she already had. She wanted to deal with this on her own. She had always done fine on her own before. She didn't need anyone.

"You just butted in, uninvited. So don't tell me I have no right." She argued, coldly.

"It's not the same thing. What the hell was I supposed to do? Leave you all alone?" He countered.

"Yes!" Abby cried.

Connor seemed to think he was her own personal grief counselor. Did it ever occur to him that some people didn't want others to see them in pain? That just maybe she'd not want to share her grief with anyone? He certainly had not shared his with her… and she was more hurt by it than she wanted to admit. He should have left when she told him to. _But you wanted him here;_ she tried not to admit to herself… she almost succeeded.

"Yes, I wanted to be left alone! And you…" She fumed.

_Lies. You lie. You are lying to him._ She thought.

"What?" He yelled.

Connor was _shouting_ at her. She had beaten the living shit out of him and he had let her do it. She had kicked him out of his home on a moment's notice and he had smiled and accepted it. But she had just crossed a line that she hadn't even known existed. She honestly had not thought he had drawn any for her, but he had. It hurt. It was unreasonable and stupid for it to hurt, but it did.

"You won't leave me be! Look what I did to you, and you still won't go." She said, her voice breaking as she gestured towards his bruised face.

She had to get him away from her. If she could do this to Connor once… what if she did it again? What if she _really_ hurt him next time? She could not live with herself. Hot tears fell. She didn't even know when she had started to cry.

"I don't care about that, and I'm not leaving you alone…not like this." He insisted.

His voice was already softening, his face gentling in the face of her tears. Damn him. _She_ cared that she had hit him.

"Just go, before I do something worse." She pleaded.

He usually gave in to her, but she saw him setting his jaw again. She didn't think she would be so lucky this time. Damn him for it.

"No, I can't. I was all alone…and I'm not doing that to you." He avowed fiercely.

Abby was angry again, he was such a stubborn fool! She was trying to protect him! She snarled as she advanced on him; he twitched. Not quite a flinch, but it had started as one. Something tore inside Abby, shattered and broke at the thought that Connor was flinching away from her. Like she and Jack had flinched away from their foster father, even when he was giving them scotch soaked hugs… especially then, Abby remembered darkly.

His jaw clenched as he stared her down, but a tear slipped down his cheek, and then another. He was killing her, she couldn't stand it. She had not done anything to deserve this level of devotion from him. Why could he not just leave her be?

"Why?" She cried out, frustrated and angry.

"Because I love you!" He choked out.

He froze; his eyes wide and panicked. Abby stared at him, shocked into silence. He loved her. He had said it out loud (again.) How could he? How could anyone love her? She took another step towards him, closing the space between them. She was close now…she could feel the heat off of his skin; she would feel his breath on her face if he was breathing. He stood frozen, terrified and waiting. She looked into his dark eyes, amazed at the love she saw there.

She reached out her hand to his face. He trembled as she brushed her fingertips over the bruise on his jaw, and then dug her hand into the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled his head down to hers. She kissed him softly at first, and then Connor wrapped her tightly into his arms and deepened it. He crushed her body to his, kissing her with more need and passion than she thought Connor possessed. It seemed she didn't know him that well at all, and that hurt her yet again. Abby responded in kind, losing herself in him. Tears welled up and fell; she didn't deserve him. He broke away finally, gasping for breath. His face set in concerned lines as he saw her tears.

"What's? Why? Did I?" He stammered, trying to understand yet another sudden shift in mood.

She buried her face in his chest, clung to him and cried helplessly. He was here for her. For _her._ No one had ever been there for her before. She had been alone for as long as she could remember. Alone to deal with Jack and his problems. Alone to deal with foster family after foster family, some worse than others, but none of them good. Connor loved her, and he was here. Her brother was dead and she had hurt her best friend and she felt like she was dying, but Connor buoyed her.

He wouldn't let her sink into it and give up and she both loved and hated it him for it. He held her there, rubbing circles on her back and pressing kisses to her hair once again; it felt good… safe. He was not about to give in, and truthfully she didn't want him to. Enough with the games. Enough with the lies. She wasn't fooling anyone, least of all herself. When he sank down onto the bed and pulled her into his lap she allowed it, and wrapped her arms around him to hold on to him tightly. She owed him so much, had hurt him so deeply.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Abby murmured.

Connor shushed her and held her close.

"It's alright. I understand…" He consoled.

At this, Abby started crying harder. He had lost so much, and she had been so cruel to him in the face of it. He forgave her, and she didn't deserve forgiveness; she didn't deserve his love. She wished he had told her and she didn't understand why he had hidden it, but if it was because he'd not trusted her then Abby couldn't fault him for it.

"Why did you never tell me?" She asked softly, when her sobs subsided.

"Did you ask?" He chided gently.

"No." She admitted.

"But I was afraid if I asked you, I would have to tell you about my family…I don't like to talk about it." She divulged.

"You don't have to, Abby." He replied softly.

She nodded against him. She was glad. She didn't want to.

"Connor? Would you tell me about them?" She asked, looking up at him.

She hoped he understood that it was just a request. He had said he didn't tell her because she didn't ask… so she was asking.

He sighed. "Yes. I'll tell you."

She slid from his lap self-consciously and began to gather the papers on the bed and place them back into the box on the floor. Connor began to gather the pictures; his hand stilled over a family portrait… Abby watched as his fingertips hovered above the photo, pain etched plainly on his features. She didn't want him to tell her if it hurt him to do it. He had enough pain, thanks to her.

"You don't have to, Connor." She said, an unconscious echo of his earlier words.

He nodded silently, continuing to gather the photographs.

"Connor…all those things I said…I didn't mean them." She apologized.

He nodded again, still subdued. She snagged his hand.

"Look at me." She demanded.

He did, his beautiful deep brown eyes searching her face trying to figure out if she really meant it.

"I don't think you are pathetic…" She begun.

He gave a derisive snort as if he didn't believe her, looked to the ground. She searched for something to say so he would understand what a remarkable man she thought he was.

"Connor, you are the strongest man I know, the sweetest, and you have the best heart…I'm the pathetic one for attacking you when you were just trying to help me. I'm sorry, Connor." She said softly.

He gaped at her, as if he'd not understood what she was trying too say. Confusion and cautious joy flitted over his face, as if he was afraid she would suddenly decide to take it back. He nodded, finally. She held onto his hand, pulled his thumb out of the hole in the seam of his shirt sleeve so she could see his bare palm. She traced her fingertips over it; he shivered.

"S' okay…" He replied.

"No. It isn't. I'm…I'm not good with feelings. I got scared…and I pushed you further and further away the more…" She paused and swallowed hard.

It was hard for her to say. He deserved it. He deserved to know and she would _do_ this. She held his hand, traced her fingers across his palm and looked at him. Hope and fear were written across his features… so plain for her to see. He'd never been good at hiding his feelings, but she had been very good at ignoring them.

She closed her eyes tightly and then opened them again. He had told her… twice. She could say _this, _even though it terrified her_._ She had never said it and meant it before.

"The more I fell in love with you." She finished softly.

She swallowed hard, fearing his reaction. The joy was back behind his eyes, shining softly for her. He bent his head to hers slowly this time, gave her time to move away. She didn't know why he thought she might; she wanted it…she tilted her head towards him, invited him in. He kissed her softly, tender and sweet and gentle as his soul. He would never hurt her, he couldn't. When they broke apart again she gave him a fragile smile.

"Mum and Dad, they died when we were real young. I don't really remember them." Abby said softly.

She gave it up as an offering; an attempt to give him something in return for what she had taken from him. Connor leaned back on the bed against the pillows and pulled Abby down with him. She rested her head in the crook of his arm and continued, feeling as if Connor holding her in his arms was the most natural thing in the world for them. It should be. She wanted it to be.

"We didn't have other family to take us in…we went to foster families. We stayed together though…but some of them…they were not good. Some of them were bad…violent. Some people should never be around kids." Abby explained.

Connor squeezed her shoulders gently. "You don't have to…"

"Shh. Let me finish." Abby argued, but there was no real recrimination.

"A couple of times they tried to separate us, but I always ran away when they did. They had a hard time of it, finding families that would take us both. Jack was…troubled, and I suppose I was, too. Bad temper…I broke things." She related.

Connor traced small circles on her shoulder as she told him about her life. Connor surprised her by staying quiet for her, for which she was thankful. It was hard enough to talk about without having to stop, or be interrupted. She wanted him to understand what kind of past she'd had. She needed him to understand what he would be getting into if he wanted to be with her. Why she shouldn't allow it… but it _hurt. _She didn't know what she would do if he decided she had too much baggage for him to deal with. It terrified her that he would reject her, but if he were smart, he would. He should.

"I think that's why I…" She paused.

She turned to look at him, blinked back the tears. She opened her mouth to speak again but nothing came out. It was hard to say it over the choking lump of guilt in her throat. She just reached up and brushed her fingers over his bruised face, and then his lip where it was still slightly puffy and swollen. God, she had hurt him.

"…did this." She finished, her voice breaking.

Connor grabbed her hand, stilling it. He brought her fingers to his mouth and kissed them.

"I let you hit me, Abby. I didn't stop you." He said, finally.

"Connor, that doesn't make it right." She argued.

He sighed, frustration showing through.

"Have you ever struck an animal?" He asked softly.

"No." She whispered.

"A child?" He asked.

"Oh god, no." She answered, her voice stronger.

"Anyone besides me?" He asked gently.

"Jack…once." She admitted.

"Did you hurt him?" He asked carefully.

"No…I was only ten." She answered.

He smiled. "I don't think that counts."

Her brow wrinkled as she tried to find fault with his argument. "Then no...but…"

"I could have stopped you Abby." He asserted.

He was right. He was bigger and stronger than her, although sometimes she forgot it. She might be able to take him in fighting moves, but he was not powerless to stop her… and she had generally been punching blindly. He had been her punching bag on purpose… why would he _do_ that? And why had she done it to him? Because she knew he would let her, and love her still despite it? Because she knew he loved her so much… more than he should.

"You shouldn't have to." She argued.

He nodded, conceding her point. "Perhaps not."

"Are you planning to do it again?" He asked, finally.

"No." She answered immediately.

The idea horrified her, sickened her. He pulled her down gently, and she settled back down on his chest. To him, it was settled. She said she wouldn't do it again, and he believed her.

He told her his story, every part of it. She listened to him silently, paying him the same respect he had shown for her. It was horrible, what he had been through. To lose it all in one fell swoop, to go from warm family to nothing in the blink of an eye… at least she had never known any different. He had lost so much. His father, his brother, his beloved baby sister in a horrific car crash... and his mother to insanity. It broke her heart, and she was crying again.

He kissed her hair and told her it was alright, it was long ago and she shouldn't cry for him. How could she not?

He pulled out the ring threaded onto a leather cord that he always wore around his neck. She had never asked him about it, although he always wore it. Always. She had been so blind and wrapped up in fear… she was so scared to open the door to her past that she had slammed shut the door on his.

"This was Dad's. Mum can't…she can't bear to look at it so she gave it to me. She can't bear to look at me either…it upsets her. I stopped trying to visit. I love her, but…she's gone, you know? She's not in there anymore; she's just existing. I think it's 'cause she bottled it all up when they died. She didn't even cry. I found her, the first time she tried to kill herself. The next time they took me away. The third time they took her away." He finished.

That was why he'd let her go at him like that, she figured. He didn't want her to end up like his mother.

"I'm sorry." Abby whispered.

He shrugged. She understood. It had happened, and he had lived through it. She could, if he was able to, if he was here with her.

She began tracing her hand across his chest; she felt the warmth of his skin beneath the thin shirt. She wanted to be closer to that warmth… to allow it to surround her. She trailed her hand lower, over his taunt stomach to feel the tight muscles bunch under her hand. His breathing hitched, his arm tightened around Abby convulsively. She made a startled squeak in reaction.

"Sorry." He rasped, his voice coming out lower and rough.

She rolled so she was facing him. She licked her lips; he stared at her mouth. She wanted him.

"Don't be." She replied, her voice just as low and raspy as his had been.

When she lowered her mouth to his this time, there was no hesitation and no fear. She gave her heart into Connor's keeping, secure that he would keep it safe. He kissed her back with a fierceness that belied his sweet nature and tender soul. He broke away and pressed his forehead to hers, his breath faster with just one kiss.

"I love you, Connor." She murmured.

His eyes flew open, awestruck. She had told him already that she had fallen for him, but she supposed it was different to say the words directly. There would be no mistaking the meaning. She loved him, totally and completely. No more lies. No more games.

"You love me?" He asked hesitantly.

"Yes." She answered softly.

He swallowed hard as if steeling himself.

"I love you more than anything Abby." He whispered.

She smiled and kissed him again…there would be no more breaking away. Their bodies said what their hearts had known for a long time.

END

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A/N: So there it is. I'm not sure if I will do the Missing Reel for this story from her POV… maybe?

**As always I hope that you will review if you liked? (Or hated.) Please? It makes for swifter and more prolific writing, and I hope you will take the time. **


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